I Am The Borg
by Melora Maxwell
Summary: First Contact one-shot: As the Borg close in on Earth, the Queen remembers the resistance of Locutus, and learns how the Federation can be destroyed...


A/N: I am proud to say that this fic was researched, cross-referenced, researched again, closely analysed, then thrown away and made up again whilst partially drunk. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: All characters in this fic are the property of Gene Roddenberry and Paramount Pictures. I am simply borrowing the Borg Queen, Locutus/Picard, and Earth's future history, mistreating them slightly, and then returning them to their rightful owners.

* * *

**I Am The Borg**

* * *

_"…They must have done it in the past. Gone back and assimilated Earth. Changed history."_

_Jean-Luc Picard, Star Trek: First Contact_

* * *

Humanity.

A motley collection of fragile, corporeal creatures of limited understanding.

Flawed.

Weak.

Organic.

And after the years following _his_ desertion, they still existed independently of the Collective.

They flaunted their pathetic individuality as if it were something to be admired. They abhorred the Collective and the perfection that it ultimately stood for.

_He_ had abhorred the immortality, the union the Collective had offered him.

Abhorred _her_.

* * *

'**ACCESSING TERRAN / FEDERATION HISTORICAL ARCHIVES; PERIOD 1996 - 2096…**'

* * *

From the time of the summoning and V'Ger's arrival to what the Federation, the Klingons, the Romulans, the Cardassians and the Dominion called the present day, she had hunted humanity. Hunted the Federation. Hunted what it stood for, what it could be, what it would ultimately become unless it was…tamed.

Tempted.

Perfected.

As she had perfected her children.

As she had perfected the Borg.

'Locutus…'

* * *

'**SCANNING TERRAN / FEDERATION HISTORICAL ARCHIVES; PERIOD 2039 - 2070…**'

* * *

Silver eyes hardened, emotion seething inside the shards of grey and jet.

The lust for little minds, weak and strong, could never be suppressed. But over the millennia, she had grown weary of feasting upon the unwilling and resisting.

She had sought the one who could unite the bridge between their races, between the Borg and the Sentients.

The best of both worlds.

Six years ago, she had found the one she had sought.

Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D. 

Human.

Emotional.

Organic.

Sentient.

Her bridge between the worlds.

She closed her eyes in anger and remorse at the event.

She had grown tired of forcibly taking sentients, mind and body alike, and so she had offered immortality and perfection freely.

Like her cyborg soul.

But _he_ had resisted.

_He_ had fought her.

_He_ resisted, and eventually she had been forced to transform her bridge, her vessel, into another drone.

She felt him even now, as the Federation fleet jolted the Cube with their blasts from their phasers and quantum torpedoes.

* * *

'**SCANNING TERRAN PERIOD: THIRD WORLD WAR, 2040 - 2053…**'

* * *

She gazed upon the multitude of images flitting across the screens overhead. Her children had been taught well. They would follow their Queen's every whim.

'Once more unto the breach, dear friends…'

A cold smile lit her face for a second. _He_ had always expressed a fondness for an obsolete Terran author. William Shakespeare.

Strangely appropriate in this situation.

She blinked, dismissing the thought almost as soon as it appeared.

A glance at the shining blue marbled sphere ahead of the little fleet of ships.

A thought.

'Stop. Scan Terran historical archives from 2040 - 2063, sections J-14 through J-23.'

A second to respond.

* * *

_April 7th 2040__: …Earth President James McKinley today announced the desertion of one Colonel Green from the UIBI Marines. Green, who earned the Victoria Cross from King William IX in 2028 for bravery above and beyond the call of duty during the Second Korean Occupation, is believed to be residing in __Indonesia__ following a meeting with the Premier…'_

* * *

From the minds of assimilated Federation personnel, she had discovered much of Earth's turbulent history. The year 2040: the beginning of the end for Locutus's precious Earth government.

* * *

'_June 31st 2040: …In a world-wide broadcast, Earth Vice-President Brooks announced the end of peaceful negotiations with Colonel Green following the assassination of President McKinley on June 29th… "As of __00:01__ hours on __31st June 2040__, the United Nations hereby declares war upon the Axis Powers of __Indonesia__China__, and __Korea__; hearby known as the Eastern Coalition…we pray to God this conflict will be brief…"_

* * *

Ever searching, ever evolving, ever spreading.

Humanity was a virus, feasting upon its homeworld's resources, ever spreading like a disease, through the Earth, through its solar system, through the stars…

A disease that turned upon itself, destroying that which it sought to protect…

She revelled in the destruction, watching the scenes of war, of hate, of cruelty; she drank in the bloodshed, fed off of the pain. 

The Third World War commenced. The nuclear weapons fell, humanity pouring its energy into its own destruction for 13 years.

* * *

_'September 3rd 2053: …Robert Brooks, C-in-C of the Western Alliance Armies announced the end of hostilities after Colonel Green's body was found in Beijing, Northern China…"We have won this conflict, but at what cost to humanity? 600 million dead, over 2 billion wounded and/or suffering the effects of radiation sickness. The nuclear war has been fought and won…but on this day, there is no difference between the victors and the survivors… "_

* * *

Until at last, the hatred stopped.

The radiation clouds continued to spread over the Earth. The nuclear winter held for almost a decade…

* * *

'_April 5th 2063, __11:14__ hours: …Early intelligence reports from INSA have indicated that a nuclear missile has been launched in central __Montana__ at approx. __10:55__ hours. The purpose of this attack is unknown… _'

* * *

She smiled coldly. Nuclear weaponry was still thought to be the most advanced technology in certain parts of the galaxy. Designed to kill over great distances, deadly at the moment of impact, and lethal in large doses over a number of years.

And yet she had proved that perfection could be as deadly as a black widow's kiss.

Deadlier than radiation and twice as beautiful.

* * *

'_April 5th 2063, __15:43__ hours: …"A monumental day in the history of humanity", American Coalition President Robert Brooks has announced this evening. The projectile launched in central Montana earlier today has been discovered by INSA to be a space shuttle capable of travelling faster then light - the theoretical warp-drive…'_

_

* * *

_

Biographical data referring to Dr. Zefram Cochrane flashed across the screens. Noted physicist before the Third World War; suffered from severe neurological disorders which became untreatable after the war; mania, depression, schizophrenia…

Designer and pilot of the warp-ship _Phoenix_; upon successful test-flight, initiated first contact with the Vulcan people.

First contact.

* * *

'**PREPARING CHRONOMETRIC PARTICLE CONDUCTORS…**'

* * *

Locutus had had this memory ripped from the deepest recesses of his mind; ripped and added to the distinctiveness of the Collective. To the perfection of the many and the one.

Rose lips parted to reveal ivory teeth, bared in a guttural snarl.

She would travel to Earth's past.

Back to the aftermath of the nuclear holocaust.

The Federation would not come into existence for another 98 years. First contact would not yet have been made. Humanity would be an easy target.

Destroy Cochrane and the _Phoenix_, and humanity would never emerge from the Second Dark Age.

Then…the sweet oblivion of assimilation.

Locutus would try to stop her, she knew _he_ would.

But this time, she would be the one to triumph.

Six years of hatred and betrayal would be exorcised within a moment.

This time, she would destroy his resistance.

This time…

She would have her revenge.

* * *

''**WE ARE THE BORG. LOWER YOUR SHIELDS AND SURRENDER YOUR SHIPS. WE WILL ADD YOUR BIOLOGICAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL DISTINCTIVENESS TO OUR OWN. YOUR CULTURE WILL ADAPT TO SERVICE US. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE…**'

* * *

"_You cannot begin to imagine the life you denied yourself…_"

_The Borg Queen, Star Trek: First Contact_

* * *

END


End file.
